


Rock and a Hard Place

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Hold a torch for someone too long and you’re eventually going to go up in flames.  /cheese</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock and a Hard Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LB82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB82/gifts).



> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Pairing:** Optimus Prime/Starscream  
>  **Warnings:** Sticky  
>  **Notes:** I came across a GORGEOUS pic, showed the twin, and she demanded fic cuz RAWR! Then an anon posted [this prompt](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/11776.html?thread=12760832) to the kinkmeme There’s been one fill already and it was good and fun, so go read it too!

“Is that the best you can do?”

Optimus growled as Starscream taunted him with that rasping voice of his. He needed to get back to the main battle. Primus only knew what Megatron was doing. The only consolation was that Optimus didn’t think Starscream had been aiming for him when they’d crashed together.

Sideswipe was going to be put out that his jetpack was wrecked yet again. He had threatened never to let Optimus borrow it after the last two times. That really was the least of his worries, however, because as annoying as Starscream’s voice was, Optimus just wanted to shut him up.

And _not_ in any way that was remotely Autobot of him. Especially given who and what Starscream was, and that wasn’t even starting on his personality. It was lust, pure and simple. Starscream was a pretty that the basest part of Optimus wanted to touch and own. Maybe defile a little. He worked hard to keep that darker part of himself locked up, but there was just something about Starscream that made it rise up like a cobra ready to strike.

It always made being close to Starscream dangerous. Optimus wanted to knock him out. Make him bleed from those pretty lips. Twist his wings until he screamed. Kiss him until neither of them could breathe.

The fact that he actually respected the seeker as a warrior didn’t help. Few could hold their own against Optimus in hand to hand, but Starscream did an admirable job of it. He danced and darted, spun just out of reach while managing to land little blows that didn’t do much damage if any, but it _did_ wear Optimus down. Compared to the near boundless energy of a seeker, he would fade and mess up long before Starscream tired, allowing a potentially deadly opening. He’d seen this tactic before.

“Primus! How have you been defeating Megatron for so long?” Starscream stepped back to pause, helm shaking. “Never mind. He’s pathetic.”

Optimus narrowed his optics, taunting back, “So pathetic that you grovel at his feet.”

Starscream smirked. “Prudence.” Then he whirled, dipped, and landed a strike against Optimus’ shoulder.

They danced around one another, Optimus allowing himself to be maneuvered into a purely defensive position. He played up the grunts of pain, and allowed his few return strikes to be clumsy and fall wide. He was stalling, not just trying to come up with a way out of this without losing all his pride, but also because it was Starscream. Alone. No one to see, and no one to judge, and no one to run the seeker off.

It was so wrong.

So was letting his fist swing wide, soften, so just his knuckles grazed over the top edge of Starscream’s wing, ringing off the tip.

That gasp had been pain. The break in Starscream’s rhythm was because he’d been shocked by pain.

Right?

“Like that, did you?” Optimus said anyway, and for once all Starscream did was hiss back.

Optimus waded back in, knowing that what he was doing was wrong. Intentionally molesting the mech was not right. Not by any standard. And just because he was couching it under the thin disguise of a physical fight didn’t make it any less wrong at all.

No, not even if he told himself that he was totally doing it only to put Starscream off balance.

No, not even if it seemed to be working.

Huh. It _did_ seem to be working. Why was that? And just _how_ was it working? Starscream didn’t seem to be missing or hitting any more often, though he was keeping his wings swept back, and being much more cautious about how close he came to Optimus. Were his optics a deeper hue? Was it exertion bringing that bit of a glow to his dark face? Or something else?

Optimus took a swing, berating himself even as he made sure his fingers scratched lightly across the surface of Starscream’s wing. He watched the reaction carefully, trying to prove to himself that he was delusional. Too wound up from the combat high. His own stupid, depraved lust coloring his perception of Starscream’s physical responses. It had to be, because the idea that Starscream might actually be aroused too-

Was fragging hot.

“You really are liking this,” Optimus goaded.

He was expecting a denial, not Starscream suddenly, smoothly stepping close, pressing against him chest to chest. Optimus’ engine revved, and Starscream smirked up at him, voice dropped to a shockingly arousing purr, “So are you.” Hands pressed flat against Optimus’ grill, pushing up in a firm caress that set his sensornet alight. “But what are you going to do about it?”

Optimus dug deep, called on the Matrix a little, and shoved Starscream back. “Nothing.”

Starscream’s optics widened, then narrowed to angry scarlet slits. “Coward!”

Optimus ducked the thruster-aided kick aimed at his helm, caught Starscream’s ankle, and swung him into a boulder. Starscream struck out at him, but Optimus had already closed the distance, using his body to pin the seeker. He clutched at Starscream’s hand, optics locked on the seeker’s face as his other hand caressed up one long leg. He waited for some sign, some hint that Starscream didn’t want this, but deep garnet optics stared back unflinchingly. Starscream’s lips were parted, panting. They were both hot.

Way too hot…

“Well?” Starscream demanded.

“Say no.”

Starscream hooked his free hand over Optimus’ shoulder instead, pulling with steady pressure. “Make it good, Autobot.”

So. Fragging. Wrong.

Optimus battlemask retracted and he smirked a little himself as Starscream’s optics widened in surprise. He didn’t want to wait any longer, so leaned in hard over Starscream, pushing his mouth against the seeker’s. They both moaned at the contact, Starscream’s back arching, hand tightening on Optimus’ shoulder. Optimus gripped behind Starscream’s knee and lifted.

Their panels clicking seemed loud, and Optimus almost broke the devouring kiss to guiltily look around.

But Starscream’s hips bucked, a low moan vibrated over Optimus’ lips, and Optimus decided he didn’t care if both of their respective armies were watching from the ridge above. He wasn’t letting this go. Not at this point. He drew his aft back just far enough, rocking as the tip of his spike slipped over lubricant-slicked metal, both of them writhing and clutching too tight to one another for him to properly guide his spike.

It was almost an accident when Optimus finally thrust home, spreading open the plush lining of Starscream’s valve and gliding deep with a single strong plunge. Relieved cries were muffled between them, and Optimus set a driving pace. Starscream met him thrust for thrust, valve clutching and releasing, hips winding in maddening little arcs each time their arrays pressed and rubbed together.

Optimus was being too rough. He knew it somewhere deep in his mind. He slammed in too hard, feeling Starscream’s frame jolt between him and the rock. He was kissing too violently, teeth scraping over lips, tongues battling instead of caressing. There would likely be dents from his fingers on Starscream’s wrist, the back of his thigh.

The knowledge thrilled him, and he bit at Starscream’s lip, lust tightening in a knot low in his belly as the seeker keened. Optimus growled, possessive, hands squeezing more, thrusts brutal as the charge crested, tingling in a pre-overload sizzle across his sensornet before grabbing him up and flinging him, roaring, into a release so powerful it hurt. So intense it stole sight and sound, and tipped the universe sideways and left him gasping on his knees, face pressed to Starscream’s neck with no recollection beyond shattering ecstasy of how he got there.

Optimus suddenly returned to himself, helm jerking back to stare with wide optics at Starscream’s face. The seeker’s arm was limply draped over his shoulder, and Optimus still held his other hand, but now their fingers tangled together, arms hanging at their side.

Optimus discovered they were still joined when Starscream’s thighs squeezed his waist, back arching. Dim optics peeped open, a very sated, self-satisfied smile curving over abused lips.

“ _Never_ thought that you had that in you,” Starscream purred, grinding his aft down onto Optimus’ lap. He cycled his vents in a heavy sigh, slumping back against the rock, grin growing as he watched Optimus’ face. “You didn’t either, did you?” He snickered, sounding sleepy and, oddly, playful rather than biting and taunting.

“No,” Optimus answered honestly. He _always_ held back from such a loss of self-control. “Are you injured?”

Starscream squirmed again, valve rippling and drawing a gasp out of Optimus. He chuckled, and shrugged. “Probably. That was amazing.” He twisted the hand Optimus held, freeing it and bring it and the other to push lightly at his shoulders. “Up. Megatron called the retreat ages ago.”

“He did?” Optimus eased out of Starscream, optics caught and held by the gush of mingled fluids. They were a mess. Primus! He couldn’t possibly return to his troops like this!

“Mn. Before we even started in on each other.” Starscream stood, wobbling as he took a few steps away from Optimus. “Well. Started the fun stuff.”

Optimus watched him pull a cloth from his subspace and begin cleaning up. “Uh…” Yeah, he had no idea what to say. “You seem… mellow?” He really should have stuck with saying nothing.

Starscream looked up, then laughed. “After _that_ overload?” He waved a hand and went back to cleaning himself. “You know you’ve probably done Megatron a favor. All I think I’ll be capable of the next week is recharge and self-service to the memory playback.”

Optimus’ face went up in flames. Holy slagging Primus on a trike! The mental images were instantaneous and _vivid_. He was going to spend the rest of his life wondering if Starscream was writhing on his berth, fingers plunging into his soaked valve and whimpering Optimus’ name as he clawed toward overload.

He must’ve made some small sound because Starscream glanced at him with a wicked, knowing smirk. His panel _snick_ ed as he closed it, wings flexing a few times. Optimus could only watch, mute, as Starscream swaggered over to him.

He definitely made a sound when Starscream dragged a finger from base to tip along the underside of his spike. Half-pressurized instantly, almost painfully, became erect and ready as that same cobalt finger was sucked clean between dark lips. Starscream’s gaze dropped, expression pleased with the effect he’d had, then slowly traveled back up Optimus’ frame to meet his optics.

“Until next time, Prime.”

Optimus was still reeling from that promising purr as Starscream shrank into the distance.

Frelling tease.

Optimus was tempted to take himself in hand and tell Starscream all about it next time, but he really needed to clean up and get back. The last damn thing he needed was to be caught covered in fluids and looking as dumbstruck as he felt. Or worse, found by one of his friends yanking on his own spike and whispering Starscream’s name.

He could do that alone, later, in the privacy of his own quarters.


End file.
